The Word Of A King
by tracyh
Summary: Some time in the future after the series 3 finale, we see Camelot's joy as the new King takes a wife. We follow Guinevere on her wedding day, and Arthur finds the courage to tell Guinevere how he really feels for her.
1. Chapter 1

**The Word Of A King**

**A/N I have two stories on the go from another fandom that I am determined to finish when I can. However, for some time I have wanted to write something based on Merlin and the third series finale finally prompted me to get something out. This isn't based on the finale as such, but does contain spoilers, so you have been warned.**

**My idea was to write a simple little one-shot where Arthur makes a speech to Gwen on their wedding night, but the idea wouldn't stay in its box. I found myself being whacked around the head by an idea to fill in the blanks between the end of series three and the period of time before Guinevere becomes Queen, and this is the result. I blame Merlin's writers for inspiring me with a stunning finale. It will be a two-shot, no more than that, because this is my first Merlin fic and it scares me to death!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, unless we're talking about the DVD's for the first two series, in which case I do.**

Guinevere stood in the dim light of the chamber, staring through a half open window at the scene below. In the square people still rejoiced. As Gwen looked down she saw people she'd known all her life exchanging greetings. Some even embraced, laughing loudly together in their shared joy. Even the guards, usually so serious and solemn, didn't hesitate to be part of the revelry in their midst, as they stood around a brazier to keep warm, the flames dancing gold and blue in the night air. Gwen could hear the men singing. She smiled. Singing might not be the most accurate description for what they were doing, for none of them were in tune, and each held a bottle of something in his hands. Between songs, some of the words of which would make a real lady blush, Gwen thought, the men raised a toast, clinking their bottles together and cheering, before the next song started the cycle again. Reaching out, Guinevere closed the window, leaving the guards to their celebrations and making a mental note to ask Gaius to send them all something for the headaches they would be sure to have in the morning.

Moving away from her view of the square, Gwen went into the inner chamber, where another window afforded her a view of the lower town. She looked out at the houses below, where it seemed candles were lit in every home, and smoke rose from every chimney. All of Camelot seemed to glow in brightness this night, and no one seemed ready to sleep, not when there were celebrations to be had.

It had been a wonderful day, Guinevere mused. Right from the dawning Camelot seemed to shine, bathed in sunlight and the happiness of its people, for this was the day when their new King took a wife, a commoner, to be his Queen.

Guinevere cast her mind back over the day, remembering her ladies as they giggled excitedly as they helped her prepare for the hand-fasting ceremony.

In spite of living in the castle for months, and having Arthur insist that as the future Queen she could have anything she wanted, it still felt odd to Gwen to have help to dress and do all the things she'd done by herself for years, or that she'd helped Morgana do when…..Gwen closed off that particular thought. She was not going to think about Morgana today. Not today. Instead, Gwen recalled her ladies chatter. She remembered one of the younger girls, Sally, stumbling over her words and blushing profusely as she forgot how to address her lady, and receiving a glare from one of the older, more experienced women for her trouble. Gwen suppressed a chuckle as she remembered the woman's scandalised face when, taking the young girl's hand, Guinevere said conspiratorially, "The King calls me Quinevere, the Knights and the Guards call me 'My Lady', you may call me Gwen, as my good friend Merlin does, because you and I will become good friends, I'm sure of it." The young servant girl blushed in delight, her pleasure shining in her eyes. The older servant opened her mouth to say something, to object, or perhaps to admonish such impropriety, but Gwen waved the words away with a dismissive hand. Obviously knowing she was beaten, the woman left the room, dropping into the briefest of curtseys as she went, giving Gwen a look that spoke volumes for her disapproval. Gwen ignored her. She remembered what it was like to be a young serving girl in the castle, to feel looked down on by people who thought they were better than anyone else because they had been there for years. Besides, she thought wistfully, it would be nice to have someone close by who knew her as Gwen, it was a reminder of where she'd come from, a link with a past she would never forget, no matter if she would soon be Queen.

Soon Guinevere was all alone, listening to the familiar sounds of the castle around her. It gave her time to think. As so often in recent days, Gwen's mind turned to her parent's. Her mother, a distant but cherished memory. Her father, a good man, who had died an unjust death. Gwen looked down at the train of her wedding dress, the intricate lace-work that adorned it. At the bottom of the train, the part that would trail the floor as she walked down the aisle, amongst the familiar patterns of flowers and other symbols of love, lay a horse-shoe beneath a crown, to symbolise both the past and the future. As she gazed down at the intricate design Gwen knew her father was with her this day and that he was happy. It was enough.

A knock on the door broke in to Gwen's thoughts. It was time. The door opened to reveal Sir Elyan, who beamed with pride in his red cloak as he took his sister's hand to escort her to her new life.

The Great Hall seemed to hum as Gwen made her entrance on the arm of her brother. Horns blared out and the people stood as the huge doors closed with a resounding thud behind the entering bride. Gwen glanced around at the faces of the gathering before her as they turned to face forwards. She could see Sir Leon, who nodded in greeting before he seemed to remember himself and stood a little more upright. Gwen inwardly rolled her eyes. Memories of her childhood ran through her mind, growing up with Leon in his family's household where her mother was a maid. Gwen remembered another time, a darker time, when Leon had ended up in the cells, when the only way to free him and get him out of Camelot was to dress him as a woman. Gwen stifled a smile at the memory of Leon's face when he realised she was serious and that he did have to wear a dress. He'd been mortified, but he'd done it, for the King, and for Arthur, because he was loyal and dutiful, and because he believed in the future Arthur would bring.

The music continued and Gwen still looked around as all the people faced her. A few rows from Leon, Gwen could see Sir Percival, standing tall and straight, head and shoulders above all those nearest to him. Another few steps and Gwen spotted Sir Gwaine, who, when he realised he'd been seen, grinned and mouthed 'your majesty', before nodding deeply, in what Gwen assumed was supposed to be a bow, but one he couldn't quite manage in his confined space. Gwen frowned and Gwaine grinned again, knowing full well that he hadn't really caused offence. Gwen had to stare down at her shoes for a moment to cover a grin of her own. Gwaine would never change, he was still a clown. But still, he was a good man, a man who cared deeply for his friends, a man who served Arthur loyally, who would die for the King in an instant if called upon to do so.

In the depths of the throng Gwen could just make out Sir Lancelot. As she neared Lancelot seemed to look deliberately towards his feet, staring at them intently, as if they were fascinating.

Gwen remembered how she'd fallen for Lancelot when he first arrived in Camelot, how she'd missed him when he went away, and how glad she was when she saw him again at Hengist's castle, before he'd left her alone again, torn between sadness at the loss of him and confusion at the feelings that were starting to grow inside her for the man who would one day be King.

By the time Gwen saw Lancelot again, during the dark days of the battle for Camelot, she knew her future lay with Arthur, and that Lancelot could never be anything but a trusted and loyal friend. She knew that sometimes Arthur doubted. Sometimes she would be talking with Lancelot and Arthur would see them and would turn away, then he would brood for days, avoiding her, until he could keep his fears to himself no more and they would spill out in words she knew he didn't mean. Gwen tried to reassure him, tried to convince him that she no longer had feelings for Lancelot, but he wouldn't be convinced, only placated, until the next time. Eventually it came to a head, and all over something trivial.

It was Yule-tide and Gwen was determined to put together some small gifts for the children of some of the poorest families in Camelot, just some fruit, nuts, and other small tokens. Arthur had approved of the idea on the condition that she went in to the town accompanied by a guard, or at least someone who could watch out for any trouble. Gwen wanted to tell him she could manage alone, after all she'd walked about the streets of Camelot by herself since she was a child, but she knew Arthur was just concerned for her safety, so she'd conceded, and one of the guards was despatched to accompany her.

It was on the way back, laden with fruits and small gifts that Lancelot had appeared as if from nowhere and offered his assistance. Seeing no harm in it, Gwen accepted, and Lancelot took her shopping and walked with her back to the castle, dismissing the guard and giving him a few coins to get himself a drink in the tavern. The guard disappeared into the crowd before anyone could change their minds.

Gwen and Lancelot chatted companionably as they neared the castle. Then, as they went into the square, Gwen said she could manage and Lancelot handed over her packages. With her hands full Gwen couldn't take Lancelot's hand by way of thanks, and as she wasn't yet a noble it didn't seem quite right to dismiss him with a stiff thank you. Instead, reaching up on her tip-toes, Gwen kissed Lancelot on the cheek. It was then that Arthur appeared.

At first Arthur had tried to run away. Gwen, knowing immediately what he'd thought, and knowing she'd probably made a mistake, ran after him. He ran straight to his chambers, as Gwen knew he would, and slammed the door behind himself. He was furious. Gwen debated knocking, but she knew Arthur wouldn't let her in when he was in such a temper, so, gathering her courage, Gwen slipped inside the room.

Arthur didn't acknowledge her when she entered the room. He stared ahead of himself, a seemingly impenetrable wall of silence, as Gwen talked and tried to make him see what had happened. Then, out of the blue, Arthur stood. Sensing he was walking away, Gwen became afraid. She couldn't let him leave. She blocked his path to the door. She followed his every move; it was like they were human swords, blocking each other, fighting off a fatal blow. Gwen could see Arthur was getting frustrated, she knew his silence could not last in the face of her refusal to give in. Taking her chance Gwen told Arthur that she would be the one who left. She told him that if he didn't trust her he could not love her, so she would leave and go back to her house in the lower town. Her heart pounded with every word she uttered. Would Arthur really let her go? She found herself unable to look him in the eye. She was afraid of what she would see, or rather, what she would not see, in his face. Turning, not daring to look back, Gwen moved towards the door.

It was as Gwen reached for the door that she suddenly felt herself spinning around before two strong arms grasped her to a firm chest. She dared to look up to see Arthur's face. His eyes burned with tears he was fighting to prevent rolling down his cheeks. Gwen moved to take his face in her hands, to try to talk to him again, to make him understand that there was nothing between her and Lancelot any more, and would never be again, but the words died on her lips. She suddenly found herself staring at the top of Arthur's head when he threw himself to his knees and rested his cheek against her stomach, holding her as tightly as he could. Gwen wanted to make him get up, she knew he would regret lowering himself in this way, but the words wouldn't come. Instead she listened as Arthur begged her not to go. She listened as he told her how afraid he was, how afraid he _always_ was, of losing her. She listened as he said that he couldn't do what he had to do without her.

As Gwen listened to Arthur's pleas she realised something. During all their time together, from that first moment of realising the attraction between them, until the present, Gwen had thought that Arthur was the one with all the power in the relationship. She knew he sometimes doubted when she told him what a great King he would be, but she truly believed that between them he held all the cards. He could dismiss her and send her away in the blink of an eye. It never occurred to Gwen that Arthur, strong, confident, almost arrogant Arthur, could fear losing someone he cared about, because even in the face of his anger Gwen knew he _did_ care.

Memories from the past rushed through Gwen's mind, how Arthur often felt unworthy in his father's eyes, how he'd never known his mother, how he sometimes felt that people cared for him because he was Prince Arthur rather than just for himself. Gwen knew that Arthur sometimes felt that his father had loved Morgana more than him. She certainly knew how Uther had never been himself since the time when Morgana tried to take the throne. Arthur had confided that his father had been broken and that even he, his son, didn't seem to be enough to fix him. At the time Gwen had told him to give it time, his father had been locked in the dungeons, afraid for his own life, he would recover in time. But Uther never did really recover. He slipped into a decline, leaving Arthur to take control and reign as Regent, refusing flat out to assume the throne whilst his father was still alive. Then, one morning, Gwen was woken by the warning bell's muffled toll. She knew without being told that Uther was dead and that Arthur was King. Now, looking back, Gwen realised how insecure Arthur was in himself, how his arrogance was a cover for a lack of belief in himself, not just as a Prince, and now a King, but as a man. It made her wonder which one of them held the power after all.

After more talking, and then after a prolonged period of time when there was no talking because their lips were busy in other ways, Gwen and Arthur made their peace. Gwen would soon look back on this time as the point when her relationship with Arthur really changed, when they reached an understanding of one another they'd never had before. Only Guinevere was surprised when, a mere month after their disagreement, Arthur went down on his knees again, this time to ask for her hand in marriage. Only Arthur was surprised when Guinevere accepted.

Guinevere's mind was brought back to the present when she caught sight of Merlin standing next to Gaius. Merlin was smiling broadly. He seemed to be almost bouncing on his heels in his glee. Rolling his eyes as Gwen stepped closer, Gaius nudged Merlin, whose face straightened immediately, before breaking out into a grin once more. Gwen watched as Gaius sighed, shaking his head like a stern parent, but as Gwen watched, she saw Gaius's own countenance begin to crack before he bestowed a benevolent smile on her.

Once passed all her friends, Gwen faced the last few steps that would take her to Arthur. Days before the ceremony she had made him promise that he would not turn towards her until she was at his side, but when he pressed for a reason she refused to say. Inside Gwen knew she wanted to surprise him with her dress, to see his eyes glow with pride when he looked upon her. Most of all though, Gwen worried that if he turned too soon she would feel her emotions too keenly. She feared that the memory of all the time when they had tried to deny their feelings, and then all the time when they could not be open for fear of his father finding out, would catch up, and she would greet her future husband with tear-filled eyes. Instead, when she was six, perhaps seven, feet away, Gwen focused on Arthur's back, as he stood before Geoffrey of Monmouth, who looked old and frail now, waiting for her. She took in Arthur's finest cloak which seemed to dazzle, and his hair which glowed almost gold in the sunlight streaming through the windows of the hall. A step closer and Gwen saw how Arthur seemed to be barely breathing and his back straightened, making him seem taller. Gwen also saw that like Merlin, Arthur seemed to be bouncing on his heels in his efforts to contain himself.

It was as Elyan released Gwen's hand, kissing her knuckles tenderly as he prepared to let her go, that Gwen saw a movement from Arthur. Her breath caught in her throat for a second. Everything in the hall seemed to still. The music, once so loud and strong, seemed to stop. Arthur Pendragon turned to face the woman who would soon be his Queen.

For one moment Guinevere feared that her legs would cease to hold her up. She felt their trembling and willed them not to fail her now, not when she was so close. She forced herself to take a steadying breath before she looked into Arthur's eyes. What she saw there almost made Gwen's breath catch again. Arthur was focused purely on her. It was as if he could see nothing and no one else. He looked down on Guinevere with such love in his gaze that she had to restrain herself from throwing her pride and dignity to the winds and running towards the source of such an expression. However, just as the effort of restraining herself threatened to overcome her, Gwen saw Arthur's hand reach for her. Stepping closer, she took his hand, feeling it tremble slightly in hers. The sensation gave her strength. He was feeling as she did. As Guinevere took her final steps as a commoner and the ceremony began, she knew she was home.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N My heartfelt thanks must go to those of you who were so kind and encouraging in your reviews. I may well decide to write more Merlin based fics now I have this first one under my belt. I have a vague idea for a Merlin reveal fic, more in terms of how that impacts on Arthur than Merlin, and of course Gwen and Arthur's relationship brings up all kinds of topics that could be touched upon. I could delve a bit into Uther and Arthur too. The dynamics of their relationship fascinate me. We'll see.**

**Meanwhile there is this. I was worried that people might think Gwen's role was too prominent at court before her marriage to Arthur in what I've written in the first chapter, but to my surprise no one remarked on it. Just to say though, it was the season finale's fault! At the Round Table Arthur's treatment of Gwen, taking her hand to help her sit down, the way she had a place at the table at all, was the behaviour of a man who thinks of the woman he loves as an equal, someone he can lean on and know she will be there. Added to that, the public nature of the kiss in the square at the end of the episode made me think that if Uther was no longer an issue Arthur would want to be open about his feelings for Guinevere as soon as possible, he wouldn't have a reason to hide it any more, and one of the best ways to do that, at least I think, is to give Gwen a public position, to prepare both Gwen and the kingdom for her becoming Queen. It was this that I was trying to show. I hope I managed it. If not I hope you will be happy with this chapter, where I expand more on my thinking.**

**Anyway, on with the story. Please read and review.**

The hand-fasting ceremony passed by in a blur. One moment, it seemed to Guinevere, Arthur was taking her hand, and then the next Geoffrey of Monmouth was tying a red silk cord around their wrists, to symbolise their union. Anything that happened in between was lost in the moment. The only thing that Gwen remembered with any sort of clarity was Arthur's eyes, which never shifted from hers all through the ceremony, and his voice, which broke uncharacteristically as he responded to the questions Geoffrey asked them both, before he sighed softly and gathered himself, gifting her with a sheepish half-smile. It made Guinevere want to kiss him, but she knew she couldn't, not yet. She settled for giving his hand, still held in hers, a gentle squeeze. He returned the gesture and his tongue peeped out from between his lips, sweeping over them briefly, as if preparing for a kiss, or wiping away an imaginary kiss already received.

When it was Guinevere's turn to speak she heard herself say the words as if in a dream, in a voice unlike her own. Her heart pounded a rhythm she thought the whole kingdom would hear. Gwen wondered if Arthur could feel it beating through their clasped hands. She got her answer as his long fingers suddenly reached out and swept along the pulse-point of her wrist, the movement slow and deliberate. Gwen thought the action was meant to soothe her, to take away what he must have thought was a sudden appearance of nerves, but all it did was make her heart race even faster, until she feared it would burst from her chest. Arthur must have noticed her response to his touch because he repeated his gesture, brushing the tender skin of her wrist with the warm tips of his fingers, his eyes shining when he felt Gwen shudder slightly in response, the intimacy of the moment bringing a pink hue to her cheeks.

They had touched before Gwen reminded herself, trying to calm her racing heart, a task that was difficult when Arthur was still looking at her like _that_, his gaze worshipping her like she was a precious jewel or a great treasure that he needed above anything else in the world. Indeed, after the dark days of the battle for Camelot, when she arrived back from the castle of the ancient Kings flanked by the kingdom's newest Knights, Arthur had greeted her with a kiss, not in private as most of their kisses had been before, but in public, in the square for all to see. At the time it seemed natural, a loving gesture born of the joy of being together again and surviving against terrible odds, tinged, perhaps, with hope for a different future when they could be together without judgement. In the cold light of the day that followed though, Gwen told herself that it wouldn't happen again. After the time when they were discovered by Uther, at the hands of Morgana, Gwen was certain now, remembering all too well how the discovery had nearly cost her life, Arthur knew the price of discovery a second time. He wouldn't take such a risk again. But as Uther's body and mind continued on a downward spiral he would not recover from, Arthur seemed to take delight in public demonstrations of his affections. He regularly kissed her hand as he would a lady. If he went away for a time, as his duties as Regent demanded of him, he kissed her on the lips before he went, holding her in his arms for as long as he could whilst his Knights waited for him to join them, each of them, except Gwaine, Gwen mused with a hint of a smile, looking in any direction but the couple's, to give them a moment of privacy before parting. On his return, even if he'd been away just a day or two, he would greet her in the same manner, kissing her as if his very life depended on it, drinking her in like a man dying of thirst, then he would take her hand in his and they would walk in to the castle together, Gwen telling him about things he had missed while he'd been away, Arthur wearily telling her of the endless meetings with King's and nobles from the lands beyond Camelot he'd had to endure in his father's stead.

Within weeks of his father's death, when he was still adjusting to his new responsibilities, Arthur asked Guinevere to move in to the castle. At first she was unsure, thinking that it would be a change too far and people would be certain to gossip. She was also reluctant to give up the independence her own home brought her. Arthur reasoned that she spent most of her time in the castle anyway; people wouldn't think twice of her moving in, not if they knew what was good for them.

Gwen's frown of disapproval at his ill-chosen words had Arthur bowing his head like a chastised school-boy. He looked so forlorn that Gwen took pity on him. She took him by surprise when she stepped into his arms, slipping her arms around his neck just as she'd done when he greeted her in the square after Camelot had been saved from Morgana's tyranny. Seeing that his careless words had been forgiven, Arthur became solemn. He told Guinevere how daunted he was by his new position and the responsibilities that lay before him. He told her that he wanted to be a good King for his people, but that he sometimes felt that he didn't know them, or have any understanding of what their lives were like, not in the way she did. He said he needed her belief in him, her faith and trust, to guide him in the decisions he made for the kingdom and the people. Most of all though, he said he wanted the people to see that he was serious about his intention to make her his Queen one day, when the time was right. He said that after all the time he'd spent denying his feelings for her, first to convince himself that he didn't feel anything really, and then to convince his father that he had been enchanted by some unknown old wizard who seemed strangely familiar, he wanted to show everyone how he felt, including her, and he could think of no better way to do that than to have her near all the time.

Once Gwen had chance to think it through she could see that it did make sense. She did spend more time at the castle now than in her own home. The court, at least the people that mattered, was becoming used to Arthur's displays of feeling towards someone so beneath his status, would it really be such a shock if she moved in and they made their relationship more official? She wasn't so sure. It warmed Gwen's heart to hear Arthur talk of his need of her, to help him in his dealings with the people she knew so well. She thought he was doing himself an injustice when he said he didn't know them. She had seen him so many times with towns-people; he had acted fairly and with courtesy, showing empathy and compassion towards even the lowest of his subjects. But still, the way he made it clear that he had a role for her to play touched her deeply. It showed that he had considered it. Considered _her_, not just as someone he liked to be with, but as a person who could help him in his duties.

Still, the thought that niggled inside Gwen was what the nobility would think if she moved in to the castle to be with Arthur. It would be sure to cause a scandal. Gwen knew full well how vicious people could be when they felt slighted, and the King of Camelot cementing his future with a mere serving girl would be seen as a slight to King's from the surrounding kingdom's who fancied their daughters as a potential Queen of Camelot. Arthur and the kingdom could become a laughing stock and it would be her fault. There was also her own reputation. If she moved in to the castle as an unmarried woman people would be bound to think that her relationship with Arthur was less than pure. They would be bound to think that she had given herself to the King, dishonoured herself.

Explaining this to Arthur was difficult. They had kissed and held hands many times. They had held each other too, their bodies lingering close for long moments at a time, for comfort, or in times of great joy, especially since he had become King, but there was something about this discussion that was uncomfortable. Gwen knew that she was effectively saying that the nobles would leap to a conclusion if she moved in to the castle. They would believe that as she shared the King's home it was also likely that she shared his bed. Many would believe it was inevitable.

Arthur responded to Guinevere's concerns with flushed cheeks. After several long moments when he seemed to need a moment to collect his thoughts, he guided her to a window from where they could see parts of the lower town stretched out before them. As they looked out Arthur told Guinevere that it didn't matter to him what the nobles, thought. When Gwen looked at him with questioning eyes he smiled lightly. He told her that it was this, he indicated out of the window as he spoke, the real people of Camelot that mattered to him, not the nobility. He told her that he believed the people would be happy if they knew their King was happy. Then, his eyes burning with the intensity of his feelings, he told Guinevere that he would never dishonour her, that he only wanted to be near her because she made him happy. He promised her that if she moved in to the castle he would make it quite clear what his intentions were towards her were. He promised her a chamber of her own which he would only enter if he was invited to do so. He promised her that he would everything to ensure that people knew that he had every intention of making her his Queen one day, and that her honour and integrity could not be doubted.

Guinevere moved in to the castle a short time after, and Arthur was as good as his word. He accompanied her sometimes on her visits to the lower town, talking to the people naturally, asking opinions, seeking her advice. The people accepted his presence, though many didn't quite know what to make of this new King who could quite as easily be found in the marketplace as in the castle, so used were they to his father's aloofness. Gwen's presence at his side was never commented on except by those who had known Gwen for many years. They were understandably protective. On more than one occasion Arthur was subjected to questions. Sometimes he found himself the subject of glaring eyes whilst the men of the town, who had known Guinevere since she was a child, and so took it upon themselves to watch out for her since her father's death, made him promise that he would always look after 'our Gwen'. Gwen was mortified by such scenes, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Arthur took it all surprisingly philosophically. It shamed him to think that Gwen wouldn't need the towns-people to watch out for her if her father had still been alive, and that the reason he wasn't could, at least in part, be blamed on him. It touched him to know that Guinevere had people who cared for her, who would be there for her if she needed anything. He didn't share these thoughts with Guinevere. Instead he allowed the thought to warm him that as well as the towns-people, Guinevere also had him, and that he would do anything he could to make her happy, even putting up with her friends and former neighbours telling their King what to do.

When it came to the nobility Arthur was firm. He made a point of making sure Gwen was with him when visiting nobles came to Camelot. Gwen remembered one particular time when her eyebrows arched in shock when he introduced her to an Earl of some far off land as 'Lady Guinevere'. On another time a particularly snobbish Princess of somewhere Gwen couldn't pronounce let alone find on any map, took it upon herself to make remarks about Gwen's colour. Gwen ignored the comments, putting it down to the women's ignorance. Arthur, on the other hand, was clearly furious. Gwen left the room for a moment to attend to the preparations for some refreshment for the visitor. On her return she found that the visitor was leaving in a hurry, clearly having been on the receiving end of a tongue lashing. Gwen worried that if Arthur didn't curb his temper he would really offend someone one day. Another part of her thrilled at the thought of Arthur defending her so openly. Once he'd calmed down, explaining to Guinevere in anxious tones that he just couldn't sit there any more whilst the visitor was so rude, and promising to control his feelings in future, Gwen kissed him.

Each night Arthur would accompany Guinevere to the door of her chamber. He would take her hand and kiss it. Then he would bid her goodnight. Only the way he looked at her over his shoulder as he walked away hinted to Guinevere of a wish for a time when he would be able to stay.

As Guinevere slipped inside the room she nursed the thought to her heart that Arthur Pendragon was not just a good King. He was also a good man.

**A/N This really was supposed to be a two-shot. It really, really was. However, I am finding that retelling Arthur and Gwen's story, filling in the blanks from after the third series finale to when she becomes Queen, is great fun. I know it makes for a lot of text and not a lot of dialogue, but there will be dialogue galore in the next chapter. Soon. Sooner if you review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N As always, my thanks for your reviews. Your feedback is much appreciated. This is the first time I have attempted something so out of my range, especially in terms of the times Merlin in particular, and the Arthurian legends in general, would have been set in. I've deliberately stayed away from too much detail in that respect, not mentioning the style of Gwen's wedding dress for example, or Arthur's clothes too much, beyond a bit of broad detail. It means, I suppose, that a reader is free to imagine what they like. I also imagine the castle as in the series, and all Merlin viewers know what it looks like, so I resisted the temptation to reinvent the wheel.**

**So, here we are, in what will be the third and final chapter of The Word Of A King. This chapter is significant in that it is what I intended to write all along. It is what popped in to my head, first in fragments, and then in great big chunks. I allowed it to run amok in my mind, developing into a fic that flips back and forth on a timeline, but the fundamental story is this chapter. In-keeping with the rest of the story, it doesn't have a plot as such. I prefer to see it as a snapshot of events, a peak into Guinevere's memories.**

**As ever, please read and review.**

Horns played a fanfare as Guinevere walked down the aisle of the Great-Hall on the arm of her new husband. _Husband_. The word washed over Guinevere in a wave of feelings she couldn't name. Joy and love didn't quite seem to fit such an idea, although they were the foundations for it. There was also something about belonging, even ownership, which washed over her as she looked into Arthur's eyes. Normally Gwen would be revolted by the idea of one person owning another. Even in her life as a servant she knew in her heart that she belonged to no one except herself. Now, looking at Arthur, Gwen was conscious of feeling owned, as if she belonged, but what was perhaps more surprising was the way Arthur's eyes reflected her feelings. They belonged to each other now, they always would. Arthur was her husband and she was his wife.

Arthur led Gwen into the vestibule beyond the Great Hall and the doors shut firmly behind them, giving them a moment alone. Arthur released Gwen's arm and they turned to face each other. The expression on his face was a mixture of wonderment and disbelief, as if he'd been having a dream only to wake and find that the dream was true. Gwen knew because she felt the same.

Several long moments passed, time in which neither of them moved or spoke. Gwen couldn't find words to explain how she felt. All she knew was that her heart seemed to have moved and lodged itself in the back of her throat, it was so full. Arthur's lips suddenly opened and Gwen was sure he was about to speak. His expression reminded her of the first time he kissed her, in her house in the lower town, when he was fighting in the tournament as Sir William in secret, to prove to others, and to himself, that he could win because he was good, not just because he was Prince Arthur. It was also the time when he was being hunted by an assassin employed by King Odin, who wanted Arthur dead because he had killed his son.

That time, Gwen recalled, Arthur kissed her, then he stood there looking as if he couldn't quite work out what he had done. Gwen remembered feeling the same. She couldn't take in that Arthur had just kissed her, not just a friendly kiss in greeting, though as she was a servant even that would have been out of the question, but as something else. Something she dare not name. What puzzled her even more was her reaction to it, the way she followed him as he eased away, like his kiss was a siren-call she could never get enough of. Now she stood and waited for whatever he was going to do next. That first time he had turned and fled, leaving Gwen to wonder what exactly had happened and, more importantly, what it meant. Now he stood before her, his mouth opening and closing slightly, as if he was trying to think of what to say and finding nothing.

When several more minutes had gone by and Arthur was still standing before her Gwen became anxious. Though she saw nothing in his gaze to indicate there was anything wrong, her mind started to imagine all sorts of things. She started to think that he had suddenly realised the magnitude of what he had done, taking a commoner to be his Queen. She could almost hear him realising that he'd made a mistake. She could see him trying to work out a way of getting out of what he had done, trying to be rid of her as soon as possible.

The thought that Arthur regretted what they had done grew bigger and bigger with every passing second. She tried not to react, tried to tell herself that she had to keep calm if she was going to be able to maintain a scrap of dignity from the situation. Still, she couldn't help the image that passed through her mind, of being cast out of the castle, away from Arthur, perhaps even having to leave Camelot. The idea was unbearable. She swallowed down a sob that wanted to come out. She was not going to cry, she told herself. She was going to face it.

Gwen took a deep breath and opened her mouth. "Arth…."

That was as far as she got. She was interrupted when she found herself being pulled against the hardness of a chest, the coolness of chain-mail easily felt against the fine material of her wedding dress. Gwen could feel Arthur everywhere, all around her, in a way she'd never felt before, except in her dreams, which for weeks had woken her, the memories bringing a flush to her cheeks and a new feeling to other parts of her that she had never known before. It was a strange feeling, Gwen remembered, a mixture of shyness at the thought of knowing that she could think such bold, even wanton, things, and longing to feel such things again, to make the dreams a reality. The thought brought a new wave of colour to her cheeks, which only deepened when she saw the way Arthur was looking at her. His blue eyes burned, his gaze so heated that it seemed possible he would scorch her if he stared at her much longer. Something seemed to be bubbling in his mind, a thought, an idea, Gwen wasn't sure. She didn't get time to think about it too long. Suddenly her thoughts were swept away when Arthur pulled her closer against him, his hands trembling as he touched her. Even beneath his chain-mail Gwen could feel Arthur's heart pounding. She reached up to his face, to take his cheek into her hand as she'd done so often before. A delighted shiver ran down her spine when Arthur leaned into her touch and a soft moan came from his lips. Then, before she could do anything else, Arthur leaned in and brought his lips to hers.

The kiss went on for what felt like an age, but also no time at all. Everything seemed to pause for a moment, there was no noise, no movement, except for the touch of lips and the racing of hearts, which seemed to Guinevere to be thumping in her head, but she didn't care, not now. All she could feel was Arthur as he kissed her. For the first time he opened his mouth a little, deepening the kiss, the movement slow, like he was trying to give Guinevere time to adjust to the new sensation. She responded by imitating his action, slowly opening her own mouth and drawing Arthur closer in a way that drew a low moan from him that reverberated all through Gwen's body.

Arthur's response to her kisses made Gwen bolder. When Arthur tentatively dipped his tongue into her mouth, gently caressing her, she followed, allowing her own tongue to brush his in the slowest of dances. He clasped her nearer, his hands roaming up and down slowly, caressing her hair, her shoulders, her back, and, after a moment when Gwen sensed he was uncertain of how she would respond to such a gesture, drifting lower, before his hands went back to her hair, his fingers twining in her curls.

The newlyweds were completely engrossed in each other. Nothing beyond the walls of the vestibule existed, so, when all of a sudden the doors to the Great Hall began to open they both started, jumping apart like children who have been caught doing something naughty. Gwen felt a rush of heat rising in her cheeks, the thought of being found in such a position by all these people, not only friends but also most of the highest nobility in the land, making her blush. What would they think of her?

Arthur must have sensed Gwen's discomfort. Amid the noise and bustle of people beginning to rise to their feet in the Hall, he reached out and kissed Gwen's hand tenderly. He smiled brightly, his eyes shining. "Today they may think what they like", he angled his head briefly towards the Hall, showing Gwen he meant all the people within. "We're married, you're my wife. I'm allowed to kiss you now and you are allowed to let me kiss you... if you wish." Gwen saw the question in his eyes as he said the words hesitantly, as if it had suddenly occurred to him that she might not have wished to be kissed, so she smiled and repeated his gesture by taking his hand and kissing it, trying to show him how she felt when the words just wouldn't come. Arthur must have understood because suddenly his smile grew even wider, his eyes lightened the room. "We don't have to hide anymore Gwen", he spoke with an edge of something akin to disbelief in his voice. "We're allowed to be happy today, we're married." Then, taking Gwen's hand on his arm, he led her from the vestibule, the rest of the gathering slowly following, to begin the celebrations for their marriage.

Later, the banquet to celebrate the King's marriage to Guinevere was in full swing. There was music and dancing. The tables heaved with all manner of foods, and the wine flowed copiously. The room was filled with laughter and chatter as guests mingled and enjoyed the hospitality of the King of Camelot and his bride.

As Gwen sat at the top table at Arthur's side, she wondered if she would ever lose the sense that this was a dream and that soon she would wake and find herself in her work clothes, serving the nobility at such a banquet, rather than sitting amongst them. She found her eyes being drawn to the servants, people she had known and worked with for the most part of her life. Gwen watched them going back and forth, between the Banqueting Hall and the kitchens, a journey she had completed herself so many times before. She watched as they worked together, some bringing in plates of food or flagons of wine, others clearing away plates from food already eaten in order to make room for more. Gwen followed their movements, knowing their routines exactly. She knew that everything was timed to perfection, each new dish making its entrance just as an old one was being taken away. Gwen knew very well how tetchy Cook could be when she was overseeing an event such as this. Cook, Gwen remembered, saw cooking and presenting food as not only an art-form, but also something like a divine right, and woe betide the hapless servant who got in her way. Still, Gwen thought wryly, perhaps the food and wine that had been purchased specifically for the servants, so that they too could be part of the celebrations, would make the event pass smoothly and sweeten Cook's mood.

Before they sat down Gwen and Arthur stood side by side near the doors to the Banqueting Hall to welcome their guests as they entered. Arthur, with a slight smirk adorning his lips, referred to it as 'glad-handing', a moment when the visiting nobility from the surrounding kingdoms got a chance to have a word with the King, and Queen and drop less than subtle hints about crop shortages or this or that King causing uproar between neighbouring borders.

Arthur caressed Gwen's future title in exactly the same way he said _Guinevere_, making her blush and forget completely to remind him that she wasn't Queen, not yet.

Arthur took greeting the guests in his stride, shaking hands warmly with some, talking animatedly with others, and introducing Gwen to others with such a note of pride in his voice that it took her breath away. Gwen, on the other hand, found it nerve-wracking. It wasn't so much that she had never attended a banquet with Arthur, since she'd moved in to the castle there had been one or two, one for his Coronation and a relatively small one for his birthday a few weeks after he proposed, but on those occasions Arthur was the one people were looking at. Now she was his wife, soon to be Queen, Gwen knew every eye was on her, and some of those eyes viewed her less than favourably.

Gwen wasn't naïve enough to persuade herself that her marriage to Arthur was greeted with resounding approval by all the nobility. She knew that some were positively scornful of Arthur's choice of bride and were waiting for her to get things wrong. The thought caused a knot to form in Gwen's stomach. What if she did make some terrible mistake, say something out of place to the wrong person, or do something to cause offence? She would be letting Arthur and Camelot down in front of all these people. Just as the thoughts in Gwen's head were growing bigger and panic was starting to take hold, she felt Arthur's breath next to her ear. "I deal with it by imagining them all naked." His tone was completely neutral.

Gwen, whilst trying to see in the corner of her eye to make sure no one was waiting to greet her, inclined her head towards Arthur. "You…you what?" Her brows arched in shock.

She felt rather than saw Arthur's smirk. "Look", he whispered, "half of them look down their noses at me, thinking I'm a child who doesn't know what he's doing, thinking, oh so politely of course, that I'm playing at being King, and to be fair, on my case they might have a point, but…"

"That isn't true Arthur, you're a…" Gwen's response came automatically, but was no less heartfelt for that. Arthur interrupted her flow of defensive words.

"I'm just saying, imagining them all naked puts them in perspective, that's all. Mind you, Lady Beatrice over there", he tilted his head towards a rather large lady sitting at one of the tables towards the back of the room, "_that_ is not a pleasant image." He beamed mock-innocently.

If they had been alone Gwen would have reached out and smacked Arthur for being rude about their guests, even if secretly she did think he had a point. As they had company she settled for putting her hand over her mouth to cover the smile she was trying to hold back and rolling her eyes. Her response drew a chuckle from Arthur which he had to disguise quickly as a cough when the next guest appeared in front of him. His reaction, and the frown it drew from their guest, made taking her hand away from her mouth impossible for several long seconds. She quickly managed to collect herself as the guest took her other hand and greeted her with a modest bow before walking away, his nose in the air.

Instead of worrying about their guest's reaction Gwen tried Arthur's suggestion, picturing the man in nothing but the coronet that adorned his head. "It really works!" she exclaimed to Arthur in a hushed tone so that no one else would hear, as she felt her earlier anxiety slipping away.

"Of course it does." Arthur smirked lazily.

Seeing in the corner of her eye that the next guest she was going to greet would be Merlin, Gwen reached out and smacked Arthur not so gently on the arm.

"What did you do?" Merlin greeted the King with absolutely no formality at all.

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew Merlin would never change. Somewhere deep down inside he was glad, not that he would ever admit that to this man who somehow was becoming less of a manservant and more of a….Well, a friend.

"I didn't do anything, I'm completely innocent." Arthur rubbed the spot where Gwen smacked him.

Merlin grinned. "Of course you are _Sire_, and I'm a Sorcerer." His eyes danced with amusement.

It took Arthur a second to absorb what Merlin said. Then, when he realised, Gwen was surprised to hear the way his voice shook, just ever so slightly. "Y-you're .….?"

Merlin sighed theatrically. "Joking, Clot-pole." Then, winking at Gwen, he moved aside for Sir Leon.

It was as he winked that Gwen thought she saw a look in Merlin's eyes, something that looked almost too cheerful, too light-hearted, that caused her insides to twitch nervously. She pushed the thought aside, telling herself that Merlin was joking. But, a treacherous little voice in her head reminded her, Merlin had made several 'jokes' like that lately, about sorcery. He didn't do it when Gaius was around. Gwen had a feeling Merlin knew that Gaius wouldn't find it remotely funny, so he behaved himself when Gaius was in ear-shot, but when he was alone with Arthur and Gwen, these strange little remarks would come out, each one either laughed off by Merlin as a joke, or dismissed by Arthur as Merlin just being an idiot. But this, today, was different. Merlin had never joked about actually being a Sorcerer before. Gwen made a mental note to have a word with Merlin as soon as she had time.

Once the guests had finished eating it was time for the dancing to begin. As the bride and groom Gwen and Arthur had to take to the floor first. Gwen took Arthur's hand as he led her to the floor and the music began, filling the hall with sound.

It wasn't the first time Gwen had danced with Arthur, but still she found herself surprised at how graceful he was when he moved, though, she decided with some amusement, this was one opinion of her husband she would keep to herself. She knew instinctively that Arthur would object to ever being thought of as graceful. Arthur was proud of his ability with a sword, or his horsemanship. The thought of being known for being good at dancing would be mortifying to him.

After the first dance many of the guests joined the bride and groom on the floor. During one dance the ladies exchanged partners several times, each one swapping until all the ladies had danced with all of the gentlemen. On one change over Gwen found herself face-to-face with Lancelot.

"You look lovely My Lady." Lancelot took Gwen's hand and bowed his head respectfully, before they took their places to join in the rest of the dance.

Gwen smothered a sigh. Despite living in the castle for months it was still strange to hear herself being addressed in such a way. From someone such as Lancelot, someone she'd cared for, and even now regarded as a friend, it was embarrassing.

"Lancelot, you know you don't have to call me…"

Lancelot shook his head. Gwen could see he seemed uncomfortable, just as he had when she saw him at the wedding, when he could barely force himself to look at her. It saddened her. As much as she loved Arthur, Gwen knew she would never forget that brief time when she became close to Lancelot and thought him more than a friend. She knew now that her feelings for Lancelot didn't compare with the deep love she felt for Arthur, but it was still a special memory. Gwen was also proud of the way Lancelot had rushed to help when Camelot needed him, when Morgana took the throne. He'd shown his loyalty to Camelot and to Arthur without hesitation.

"I think I do My Lady, after all you will soon be my Queen, and besides…"

Gwen waited for Lancelot to finish, but after several long seconds when his words hung in the air, she prompted him. "Besides?" Her brow arched in question.

Lancelot sighed, his shoulders drooping heavily. "I just think it would be for the best, that's all."

Gwen frowned deeply. "Has Arthur said something to you, because if he has..." She couldn't help the sudden rush of feelings that flowed through her. The thought that Arthur might have singled out Lancelot and ordered him not to use her name made her feel angry and strangely disappointed. After the incident before he proposed, Gwen was sure Arthur had accepted that her feelings for Lancelot were no longer any deeper than friendship, but suddenly she was not so sure.

Lancelot must have realised that he had said something out of place. He reached out and caught Gwen's hands in his and shook his head firmly. "I didn't mean to imply that the King had said anything, he hasn't, truly. I just think that it would be best if I addressed you formally, I think it would be easier."

"Easier?" Gwen was becoming confused. Lancelot was behaving strangely. Somehow she felt that she was missing something. Still, she felt a wave of relief washing over her, knowing that Arthur hadn't interfered in how Lancelot should speak to her in future. It showed that he trusted her, trusted her feelings for him.

Lancelot sighed heavily. "You must know how I still feel about you."

For a second Gwen thought she hadn't heard him clearly above the music and the noise of all the people in the hall. Then, after gathering her thoughts, she looked at Lancelot and saw what he was saying in his eyes. She released Lancelot's hands. She watched as they fell to his sides abruptly. "Lancelot...I...I'm so sorry, I didn't…." She couldn't think what to say. He still cared for her, perhaps even loved her, or thought he did, and she hadn't had a clue.

Lancelot smiled wanly. "I know, you love the King and he adores you, and I know nothing will ever change that, and you must know I would never do anything to come between you. I care for both of you too much to do that."

Gwen returned Lancelot's smile softly, moved by the strength in his words. "I know you wouldn't. I know you are a good man Lancelot and I hope one day you will find someone who is right for you, someone you love as much as I love Arthur, and who loves you in return just as much, as he does me."

Lancelot smiled thoughtfully. "Actually I have met someone that perhaps in the future… I might….I don't know…"

He broke off, unable to say any more. His feelings, Gwen could see, were written all over his face. Knowing that he was hurt, after all, Gwen knew how she felt when he went away before, she tried to steer the conversation to a lighter mood. "Oh really, what's her name?"

Lancelot's gratitude shone in his eyes. "It's Elaine."

Gwen nodded beneficently, hoping sincerely that Lancelot would be happy one day. "You will find the right one for you Lancelot, I'm sure you will."

Lancelot dipped his head in a bow respectfully. "If I find someone who loves me as much as you love the King I will be a very lucky man." Then, before Gwen could say anything more, Lancelot walked away. Gwen watched him go and hoped that one day he would find the love he deserved, as she and Arthur had done.

"You all right Guinevere?"

Gwen's thoughts were interrupted when two familiar arms slipped around her. She looked up into Arthur's blue eyes. "I'm fine, I'm so happy, that's all." She reached up and kissed him gently on the lips.

Even as Arthur's face betrayed his confusion at his wife's public display of feelings, Gwen knew she spoke the truth. She was happy.

Much later the hall was still bustling. It felt to Gwen that she had hardly had a moment to sit down, apart from when she was eating. All evening she had either been dancing, first with Arthur and then with various other guests, some of whom danced better than others. She'd lost count of the number of times her toes had been stood on. When she wasn't dancing she was circulating around the room with Arthur, speaking to guests, asking and answering questions and trying to be a good hostess. At first it was nice, it felt good to be at Arthur's side, greeting people and welcoming them to Camelot. Gwen knew that as Queen it would be what was expected of her. But, as evening rapidly turned to night, it was becoming exhausting. She wasn't tired in her body, she'd worked long hours as a handmaiden, she was used to being on her feet late into the night. However, her mind reeled with all the new names and faces she was taking in. It felt like her head would burst, it was so busy trying to remember who was from where, what their titles were, and all the other tiny details a Queen would be expected to know. It was even harder if the guest had arrived with their families. Then there were wives and husbands to learn about and children, a lot of which seemed very badly behaved.

After a particularly long conversation with the wife of one of the guests, a woman who seemed, at least to Gwen, to spend most of her days doing very little, Gwen extricated herself politely and sat down, sipping slowly on a goblet of wine she had been attempting to drink for at least the last hour. Soon Arthur followed and took his place beside her.

"Have I been rude do you think?" She asked anxiously, concern that she had upset a guest and caused Arthur embarrassment uppermost in her mind.

Arthur took her hand and kissed her knuckles. "No, of course you haven't. You'll find that Lady Margaret", he indicated the woman they had just walked away from, "has two topics of conversation, her brat of a son and her latest piece of embroidery. I mean, how is it possible for a woman to spend an hour talking about that little…._child_." Arthur held back the word he really wanted to use to describe Lady Margaret's little terror.

Gwen chuckled. Arthur was right. Lady Margaret's son was a monster. He'd spilled the contents of at least three goblets of wine as he'd reached over his mother for the food on the table. He'd wiped his nose, which for some unknown reason seemed to be permanently running, on a table-cloth, and then, when he had finished eating, he had spent the rest of the evening running around, making a nuisance of himself and getting in everyone's way. All the time his mother ignored his behaviour, but spent all her time gushing to anyone who was prepared to listen about how adorable he was.

Arthur took Gwen's hand in his and spoke, his tone easing the headache she could feel starting to develop behind her eyes. "If you would like you could go up to my...to _our_ room and have some time to yourself before…" He let the thought hang in the air.

Gwen shook her head firmly and shook herself to wake herself up. "No, really, I'm all right. I just…I'll wait for you."

Arthur smiled tenderly. "Look, why don't you go up and make yourself comfortable? You've been on your feet all day and…"

"I'm used to hard work Arthur." Gwen couldn't help the edge in her voice. She really was exhausted. She apologised with her eyes as soon as she realised how sharp she'd sounded.

Arthur dismissed Gwen's sudden sharpness by edging closer. Gwen could feel his breath as he turned towards her. 'I'm just saying that you don't have to do everything today that's all."

Gwen's brows arched quizzically and Arthur explained. "I've watched you all evening trying to remember names and faces, trying so hard not to make a mistake, as if you would somehow let me or Camelot down, and all I'm saying is that no one expects you to know everything right away."

Gwen sighed heavily. "But you know them all and if I don't try to remember who they are it looks…"

"It looks like you are human." Arthur replied, gifting her with a gentle smile. Then he became more serious. "Look, I've told you, these people", he indicated around the room, "are not Camelot. The real people, the people in the town, are the real Camelot, the people we are going to serve together for the rest of our lives."

Gwen swallowed down a sudden lump in her throat at the image of Camelot Arthur created, a Camelot where the every-day, normal people mattered and not just a favoured few. It was what she'd always hoped for. Still, the thought niggled. If she went upstairs now, leaving Arthur to attend to their guests, the nobility would talk. But as she sat there, Gwen had to admit it was tempting. Just a few moments alone, to think, to breathe, would make all the difference. "I suppose I could go up for a moment, couldn't I?"

To her surprise Arthur shook his head. "No, you've done enough for one day. Just go up and make yourself comfortable. It's fine." He kissed her hand again. Then he beamed. "Besides, if you go up it gives me an excuse. All I have to do is say a quick goodnight to our guests and then…."

Gwen blushed. "Arthur!"

The King laughed at the expression on his wife's face. "What, after all it is our wedding night. I would have thought it was natural that we should want some time alone to…." His eyes twinkled mischievously.

Gwen flushed even more, at what Arthur was implying, but couldn't hold back the light in her own eyes. Perhaps he did have a point. They were newly married. It was right that they should want to be alone. "Are you sure no one would mind?" She gave Arthur one more chance to change his mind.

Arthur grinned. "Go to bed Guinevere." As she stood his face straightened again. "I'll say goodnight and have a quick word with the Knights and I'll be there."

So, Guinevere found herself alone in what was once Arthur's chamber, looking out through a small window from where she could see the lower town. If she looked long enough she was sure she could see her old house, or at least a sliver of smoke as it rose in the air from the chimney. It touched her to think that someone else lived there now, a young man who lived there with his wife and new baby. Gwen hoped they would be as happy there as she had once been.

As was expected, Gwen's maids had followed her to her new chamber, but once they had helped her slip out of her wedding dress she dismissed them with a cheerful smile. She knew they had all had a long day too. They each left the room, dropping into a brief curtsey as they went, all except Sally, her new maid, who handed her a small bunch of wild-flowers as a wedding gift, before saying goodnight, curtseying and leaving the room quietly. Gwen put the flowers into a small glass she found on the table in the main part of the room and half filled it with water from a jug she also found there. She went to a drawer where she knew she would find some of her clothes. When she found one of her old night dresses she slipped it on and wrapped a shawl around her shoulders. It was ironic, Gwen thought. The shawl was the one she had worn one night when a misunderstanding led her to think that Arthur was coming to her home to see her, but instead he had been under the influence of an enchantment and was spending the evening with Lady Vivienne, who he was convinced he had fallen madly in love with, leaving Guinevere to spend the evening alone.

She remembered how Arthur had insisted she buy herself all new things for her wedding day, but once her dress had been bought Gwen decided that she didn't need anything new to go to bed in, not just yet. She couldn't explain it, but somehow it felt right to start her married life, the real part that would only begin after the ceremony, wearing something she had worn when she was just Gwen, the handmaiden. With a slight blush she also remembered listening to other serving girls during the times after Morgana disappeared from Camelot the first time, when she helped out in the kitchens just for something to do. All the newly married girls seemed to say the same thing, that there was no point making or buying a new night dress for their wedding night as it wouldn't be on for long. At the time Gwen had pushed away their words, the thought of being able to be with the man she loved seemed too incredible to think of. Now it was about to happen and she could scarcely believe it. Perhaps the old night dress was a link she thought, between her past and her future.

When she was ready Gwen went back to the window overlooking the town, watching the light from the homes below as they shimmered in the light of candles in the windows, fires burning in the hearths and the stars in the heavens.

"Surveying your kingdom My Lady?"

Arthur's voice startled Gwen for a moment. But as he slipped his arms around her from behind she relaxed in to him. "I think you'll find it is your kingdom My Lord." She leaned into Arthur's chest more and Arthur's arms tightened around her. He had discarded his gilet somewhere, and now just wore his breeches and a loose shirt. She could feel his heart beating against her back.

"Not mine," he said reverently, his nose edging into her hair, "ours."

Gwen turned in Arthur's arms and faced him. "Did you manage to see everyone you wanted to talk to?" She slipped her arms up around Arthur's neck.

Arthur played with one of Gwen's curls that tumbled loosely down her back. "I did. The guests wish you a good night, oh, and Merlin said some gibberish. I think he was trying to say he would see you some time tomorrow, but I'm not sure he knew what he was saying, so I wouldn't take too much notice."

Gwen giggled. "Was he a bit drunk do you think?"

Arthur chuckled deeply. "More than a bit I think. I'm going to take great pleasure in yelling at him tomorrow."

"You'll do no such thing Arthur Pendragon."

Gwen's voice was so stern that Arthur bowed his head, before raising it again and grinning. "Spoil-sport." The two laughed and then Arthur went on. "Actually I think Gwaine might be a bad influence on Merlin."

Gwen nodded and her lips curled into a smile. "I know he is, but why in particular, what have they done this time?"

Arthur shook his head. "Oh nothing, it was just that as I left they were dancing on a table-top together, drawing quite a crowd they were."

Gwen sighed. "Oh well, hopefully neither of them will remember in the morning."

Arthur beamed wickedly. "Unless someone reminds them, for their own good of course."

"Arthur, you really are a…."

But suddenly Arthur was kissing her and any thought of Merlin or Gwaine, or anyone else flew out of Guinevere's head. Gwen's hands moved from around Arthur's neck, her hands latching on to his hair as she kissed him in return, the blonde locks catching between her slim fingers.

Guinevere was so caught up in Arthur's kiss that she was shocked when he suddenly pulled his lips from hers. "Before we….before we go any further," he indicated the bed that stood behind them, "I need to say something, something I should have said a long time ago, but never felt able to, at least not in so many words, until now."

Arthur sounded so solemn that for a moment Gwen was worried. The concern vanished when Arthur clasped her hands in both of his. He held her hands between their bodies, over his heart. She went to open her mouth to say something, but found the words wouldn't come. Instead, she waited.

Arthur Pendragon sighed and clasped Guinevere's hands tighter, as if his life depended on her. "I just…I just wanted to say….I love you."

Guinevere's heart pounded in her chest. "Arthur…"

Arthur cut her off. "I know I have sort of said it before, or at least I have tried to say it without using the actual words, hoping you would understand, but now we're married, within a few days you will be my Queen, so I thought it only right that I should say it now….before we…Before we go to bed and I forget that I never did say it after all."

"_I've never loved another."_

"_It's what you do when you love someone."_

The words Arthur used to show his feelings in the past, during times when he really shouldn't have been saying anything at all to her, washed over Gwen. The memory of those times burned within her, the sadness, the longing for someone she was sure she would never have, the hope as the unimaginable seemed possible after all. But now he was saying the words. It meant more than she would ever be able to say.

"Arthur, I…" Guinevere's lips were stilled as Arthur placed his finger over them.

"I also wanted to say thank you."

Gwen's eyes widened. "F-for what?" She hardly recognised the sound of her own voice, it was filled with emotion.

Arthur looked out of the window for a moment, as if he was gathering himself, then he turned back to Gwen. "For so many things Guinevere, so many things." He gathered himself again. "You've never lost faith in me, even when I've let you down, even when I failed you and allowed your father to…." Arthur couldn't finish. He stared down at Gwen's hands, unable to look her in the face.

"I never blamed you for that, not really." Gwen couldn't think of what else to say. The memory of that time, the loss of her father, a good man, still hurt, but that didn't make it Arthur's fault.

Arthur nodded, still staring at Gwen's hands. "I know, but you know as well as I do, if I'd just behaved like a Prince and stood up to my father it might not have happened. I might have been able to save your father."

Gwen shook her head. Part of her wanted to say that it was Uther who was responsible for her father's death, no one else, but even now, after the passage of time, she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Whatever Uther had done he was still Arthur's father.

After several long moments Gwen found the words she wanted to say. "Do you know why I believe in you Arthur, why my faith in you is so strong?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I've never understood." A wry huff of laughter escaped him.

Gwen sighed. "It's because you care about your people. It's because you want to make life better for all of your people, not just those with money and titles. It's because you have learned when you have made mistakes and not made them again."

"Isn't it better not to make mistakes in the first place?" Arthur asked, when he'd thought about what Gwen was saying. He remembered Gaius, how he so nearly had allowed Gaius to be put to death, just as he had Gwen's father, until Gwen made him realise what he was doing.

Gwen shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we have to make mistakes to learn from them. That's what you have done Arthur, you've learned, and that is why I have faith in you. You are not so set in your ways that you can not learn from people, all sorts of people, and that will help you to be a great King."

Suddenly Arthur looked up from Gwen's hands. He stared straight into her eyes. "You will make me a great King, you and your love. I mean it when I say that I could not do it without you. I told you once that I meant it when I told my father that I would give up my right to the throne for you and I still mean it. I love Camelot, I love its people. I love everything it stands for. I love what we will make Camelot, you and I, together. But above all else Guinevere, I love you, and I swear to you that I will spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of you, and thanking you for choosing to spend the rest of your life with me."

Gwen wanted to reply. She wanted to tell Arthur that she was the unworthy one, that she would show him that he had made the right choice in asking her to be his Queen, but she still could not find the words. So, taking his hand she led him to the bed.

As Arthur reached for her in the candle-lit room, leaning towards her for a kiss as he tilted her towards the bed, Gwen decided that there was time for more words later. For now she would show Arthur how she felt. She had the rest of her life to spend telling him. She had forever.

**A/N There we are, the final part of The Word Of A King, my first ever Merlin based fic. The careful readers among you might see that I have created an opening in this for a Merlin sorcerer reveal fic, which I might write if this gets good reviews. We'll see. For now my apologies for taking so long to finish this. I hope the wait was worth it.**


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